


all the truths

by gooseberry



Series: Listen to the Never [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F, Female Ignis Scientia, Female Noctis Lucis Caelum, Finger Sucking, Genderswap, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 16:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gooseberry/pseuds/gooseberry
Summary: “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says, and she feels her breath catch a little when Noct focuses in on her, leaning toward her. Noct’s been watching her the entirety of the conversation, but there’s a new intensity building in Noct’s gaze, something that’s been growing since Ignis had (somewhat cautiously) asked her,Would you be adverse to discussing our sex life?“Will it?” Noct asks. Her voice is a little lower—not hoarse yet, or particularly erotic, but it’s going that way. It probably shouldn’t be a surprising turn in the conversation, but it still makes Ignis bite the tip of her tongue for a moment, a little startled.Her voice is lower, too, like her body is trying to match Noct step-by-step. “Where do you want it to get you?”Noct’s eyes flick downwards, to Ignis’s lap. To Ignis’s groin. The warm pleasure is making its way through Ignis’s body, curling its way through Ignis’s chest and stomach on its way to her groin, and Ignis shifts a little. Noct moves her jaw, a tiny jut outward that catches Ignis’s eye, and Ignis shifts again, breathing in through her nose as her ankle presses in against her groin.





	all the truths

**Author's Note:**

> For '100 words of kink negotiation' and '100 words of mutual masturbation' prompts.

“Okay,” Noct says slowly, scooting further back on the couch. “So how do we do this, then? Just, uh, talk about what we want?”

Ignis clears her throat, then takes a seat on the edge of the couch, tucking a leg under her so that she can sit facing Noct. This is going far easier than she’d expected, which means she’s at a bit of a loss now; she’d thought Noct would blush and tune her out, or maybe make awkward, juvenile jokes. It makes sense, though—Noct always seems particularly keen when it comes to sex. Ignis should’ve taken that into account.

“More or less, as well as what we don’t want, whether it’s just a turn-off or, ah, something more distressing.”

Noct snorts. “Ignis, I don’t think there’s much about you that could be a turn-off.”

It’s flattering, even if it’s certainly untrue. Still, Ignis focuses on the flattery of it, and on the warm pleasure that heats her face and neck. It’s always an amazing sensation, to be at the center of Noct’s attention—to catch the hungry looks on Noct’s face and to hear the way Noct moans and sighs while touching her. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says, and she feels her breath catch a little when Noct focuses in on her, leaning toward her. Noct’s been watching her the entirety of the conversation, but there’s a new intensity building in Noct’s gaze, something that’s been growing since Ignis had (somewhat cautiously) asked her, _Would you be adverse to discussing our sex life?_

“Will it?” Noct asks. Her voice is a little lower—not hoarse yet, or particularly erotic, but it’s going that way. It probably shouldn’t be a surprising turn in the conversation, but it still makes Ignis bite the tip of her tongue for a moment, a little startled.

Her voice is lower, too, like her body is trying to match Noct step-by-step. “Where do you want it to get you?”

Noct’s eyes flick downwards, to Ignis’s lap. To Ignis’s groin. The warm pleasure is making its way through Ignis’s body, curling its way through Ignis’s chest and stomach on its way to her groin, and Ignis shifts a little. Noct moves her jaw, a tiny jut outward that catches Ignis’s eye, and Ignis shifts again, breathing in through her nose as her ankle presses in against her groin. 

Noct licks her lower lip, and Ignis can’t tell if Noct’s trying to make the motion exaggerated or not; regardless, there’s something glorious about it, the wet pinkness of Noct’s tongue flicking out, then retreating back into her mouth. Ignis blinks at the first heavy throb in her groin. 

“Where will you let it get me?”

“Anywhere,” Ignis answers, and she watches as Noct’s eyes move back up toward her mouth. “Wherever you want—” 

It’s Noct who breathes in hard this time, but it brings Ignis to a standstill, too. It feels like she’s balancing on a precipice; she lets her hips move, a tiny twitch that rocks her cunt against the joint of her ankle. Noct’s eyes have fallen back down again, and Ignis can feel herself growing hot and wet at that—at Noct watching her, waiting for her to rub against her own body. 

“Anything you want,” she says, letting it spill out of her; she doesn’t know if Noct hears the heaviness of it, the desperation of this truth of hers. _Anything you want. Whatever you want. Wherever you want._ She’d remake the world for Noct, if Noct wanted it—burn it down and flood the ashes with saltwater, then fashion a new creation out of the slurry. “I want everything you want.” 

Noct licks her lips again, and Ignis’s stomach twists pleasantly at the flash of Noct’s pink tongue. “C’mere.”

Ignis obeys without thought, crawling over the couch. When Noct touches her, it’s just Noct’s fingertips, tracing along Ignis’s jaw, from her ear to her chin; there, Noct’s fingertips change direction, moving upward until they’re resting just below Ignis’s lower lip. Ignis feels her mouth fall open, and she doesn’t think she could close it even if she wanted. 

“I want,” Noct says, “to be inside you,” and Ignis closes her eyes, breathing in through her open mouth. 

When one of Noct’s fingers moves higher and begins pushing down on Ignis’s lip, Ignis says, “ _Yes_.”

It’s achingly slow—just one fingertip, pressing on Ignis’s lip, then slowly dragging away; coming back and pressing down again. Lifting until the pressure is all but gone, then skimming across Ignis’s lip, again and again and again. Ignis feels her breath shudder through her, and she wonders if Noct can see the way her jaw is beginning to shake. 

“You want this,” Noct’s voice says, and Ignis feels her body throb, low and deep and heavy, when Noct tucks her finger down so the nail is pressing into Ignis’s lip.

“I do,” Ignis admits, or promises, or maybe just begs. Her tongue touches Noct’s finger as she speaks, and that’s better—and better still when Noct pushes her finger into Ignis’s mouth, letting Ignis lave her tongue against the pad of Noct’s fingertip. 

“Suck.”

Ignis opens her eyes; Noct’s face is only inches away, close enough that Ignis can see the fatness of her dilated pupils and the dampness of Noct’s own lips. Ignis closes her lips around Noct’s finger, curls her tongue around it, and sucks. Noct’s eyes seem to glimmer, and Ignis sucks at her finger again, then scrapes her teeth against the delicate pad.

When Noct crooks her finger, pushing down on Ignis’s teeth, Ignis lets her jaw go loose and open. She wonders what it looks like to Noct, her mouth—wonders if the pink makes Noct think of her cunt, if Noct wants to fuck her fingers inside there, too. She wants it—her whole body wants it, like everything is turned in towards the heavy hunger that’s building in Ignis’s cunt.

Noct pushes a second finger into Ignis’s mouth, and Ignis moans at it, tilting her head up and knocking her chin into Noct’s hand. Noct is moving her fingers in Ignis’s mouth, pushing at Ignis’s tongue, then prodding at the roof of her mouth. Every touch is sending more heat rushing through her, like her body is trying to melt itself down, let itself be cast into a new shape of Noct, and Ignis wants that—she wants Noct’s fingers to carve out a place inside her, so that Noct can crawl into her. 

“You really like this,” Noct says, her voice wondering. She’s shoving her fingers further into Ignis’s mouth, pressing down on Ignis’s tongue. Ignis can’t answer, can only suck on Noct’s fingers, then gasp around them wetly. She can feel spit on her chin, and the thought of it—of her drooling on Noct’s fingers—has her moaning low.

“God,” Noct hisses, “just _look_ at you.”

Ignis closes her eyes, pushing herself further into Noct’s hand. She wants to choke herself on Noct, wants to swallow her down so that Noct is all inside of her. 

She’s only aware of Noct’s second hand when there is a rough pinch on her nipple. It hurts in the best way, the pain running like a livewire down to her cunt, and she hears herself moan again, her belly shaking with it. Noct’s fingers in her mouth are perfect, but Ignis wants more—she’s greedy with how much she wants, with how she wants Noct’s fingers in her mouth and in her cunt, on every inch of her skin.

“I want you,” Noct says, and Ignis wants this, too—wants Noct to tell her what to want and how to want it, wants to make herself be perfect for Noct, “to touch yourself.”

Ignis peels her eyes open, enough to catch Noct’s face. Noct’s mouth is open, her mouth pink and wet, and she licks her lips as Ignis watches; Ignis wonders if she could slip her fingers into Noct’s mouth, too—maybe after, when they’re slick from her own cunt, when they taste like her. She wonders if Noct would—if Noct _will_ —suck at them desperately, her tongue licking between her fingers, searching out each drop of her. 

“Ignis,” Noct says, her pink tongue moving just behind her teeth like a promise. Ignis groans and closes her eyes, tilting her head back so she can suck Noct’s fingers farther down. 

Her own hands feel shaky, tingling like the pins-and-needles from pinched nerves. She skims her hands down her body, running the pads of her fingertips, then the meat of her palms, over the folds of her blouse and the rumpled length of her skirt. The slide of the smooth lining of her skirt against her upper thighs sends her squirming in place. She hooks her fingers around the hem of her skirt, ready to pull it higher, but Noct’s fingers curl in Ignis’s mouth, making a knot just inside Ignis’s teeth as Noct says, “Slower. Do it—do it slower.”

And then, Noct sounding breathless: “I want to watch.”

 _God_ , Ignis tries to say, but the word is ruined in her mouth, her tongue and lips sloppy around Noct’s fingers. She does it, though, what Noct asked for. What Noct commanded. She closes her hands into fists, the hem of her skirt caught between her fingers and her palms, and she drags her hands up her thighs as slowly as she can, her knuckles digging into her flesh. 

Her mouth is filling with saliva, and she swallows it down; her knuckles reach her waist, her legs feeling naked and sensitive, bare to Noct’s eyes, and she wishes she could swallow around Noct’s fingers. What would they feel like, if Noct shoved them down her throat? She thinks it might be delicious, to feel her throat pulse around Noct’s fingers the same way her cunt does when Noct is fucking her relentlessly. 

Her knickers are soaked through, hot and slick against her, and Ignis lets go of her skirt hem with one hand so that she can brush her fingers over her sex, from the dip of her cunt up to her mound. It’s easy and smooth, like she’s been ready for this for hours, like her whole body has been waiting to be touched, open nerves waiting for a spark. 

“Again,” Noct’s voice says huskily. 

Ignis lets her finger graze over her sex again, this time closer to the center of her mound, close enough that the pressure, light as it is, catches on her clit. She has to breathe in sharp, her stomach clenching and the muscles in her thighs bunching. It’s like the livewire has been dragged down to coil between her legs, bunched up in her cunt and her clit—like it’s building up, coiling tighter and hotter, with tiny shocks shuddering out from her groin through her legs and her belly to the rest of her body. 

“Again,” Noct tells her, but Ignis is already touching herself, flicking the tip of her finger against her clit through the thin fabric of her knickers.

Noct’s fingers are loosening from their curled knot inside Ignis’s mouth, and it’s only when Noct’s fingertips are dragging against Ignis’s lower lip that Ignis realizes Noct is pulling her fingers out. Ignis opens her eyes as she leans forward, following after Noct’s fingers to suck them back in. What stops her, leaving her mouth open and empty, is less the distance between Noct’s hand and Ignis’s mouth and more that Noct is reaching down to her trousers with her spit-slicked hand, fumbling at the button and zip with the fingers that had been in Ignis’s mouth.

The only thing that Ignis can manage to say is, “Yes—yes, _please_ —”

(This is a truth, too. All of Ignis’s truths are wrapped up in Noct, and Ignis doesn’t know how to imagine the world outside of her now. Ignis can and will do anything for Noct, because Noct is everything for her now; Noct is the only thing Ignis wants and the only thing Ignis loves, and Ignis will never be able to say no.)

They’re too close together, Ignis’s legs spread over Noct’s, her hands bumping against Noct’s waist and belly; there’s not enough room for Noct to do more than shove her trousers down a few inches—barely enough room for her to shove her hand down her knickers. It’s hot and wet, the closeness of their heavy breathing and the sweat on their skin, and Ignis can’t actually see what Noct’s doing, but she can feel Noct’s wrist knock up against the crease between her left leg and her groin, and the bunt of Noct’s knuckles against the lips of Ignis’s sex.

It’s messy and uncoordinated, and Ignis isn’t sure where she ends and where Noct begins, which hand and which breath belong to her and which belong to Noct. If she leans forward—if she lets herself fall— She wonders if she can bury herself in Noct like this, if she can crash into Noct’s body and tangle the two of them together well enough that everything of hers will be Noct’s. She wants—all she wants—

“Can you,” Noct gasps, her mouth open and wet against Ignis’s jaw, “can you—”

Ignis clenches her eyes shut, wishing she could dig herself forward into Noct’s body as she promises, “Yes—”


End file.
